


Rings

by Holde_Maid



Series: Highlander50_-_Methos [10]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Community: highlander50, LiveJournal Prompt, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-14
Updated: 2007-04-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7301704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holde_Maid/pseuds/Holde_Maid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos looks back</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rings

**Author's Note:**

> Claim: Methos (whom I do NOT own, alas.)  
> Prompt: Years.  
> Prompt Table: http://holde-maid.livejournal.com/11492.html#cutid2  
> Rating/Warnings: PG-13 or a little more, for swearing  
> Word count: 563  
> Disclaimer: Neither the characters nor any part of the Highlander universes are mine. Also, no harm intended and no profit made. Not even trying to. :-)  
> Author's Note: Thanks to jinxed_wood for the prompt and to several makers of timelines, including amaletu and Parda!

  
  
It was raining, but Methos didn't care. He had been walking for hours. First along the suburban streats of Seacouver's outskirts, then across meadows and along fields. Now he was slowing down as he walked uphill through a dense wood. He was finally growing tired.  
  
After a while, he sat down on the stump of a tree that had been felled a few days ago. It still lay where it had fallen. Idly he counted the rings.  
  
One - it was now almost a year since he had last heard of Duncan. Mac had left Paris rather suddenly. At first Methos had thought his Immortal friend had just returned to Seacouver, but when he followed, Mac hadn't been there. So MacLeod had disappeared for a while. Most likely he wanted to think things over. Methos didn't blame him.  
  
Two - there had clearly been a small fire here in the wood two years ago. The tree had been scorched, but not seriously burnt.  
  
Three - 1996 had been an ... exciting year. Gina de Valicourt had come for his head. Sean Burns had lost his. Amanda and Marcus Constantine had both recurred in his life again. And Duncan... had been the general nuisance he tended to be.  
  
Four - Alexa. No number of years could erase her face, her glow, her uncomplicated honesty. Four could hardly diminish the pain, it seemed to him, although he knew better.  
  
Five - that was when Kalas had begun to hunt him, and to find out about the Watchers. In the course of this hunt Methos had had to admit to himself that he had a strong and rather stupid urge to protect his fellow-Watchers from his fellow-Immortals. And that it had a lot to do with Joe Dawson's friendship. He wished he had never had to realise that much.  
  
Ten - that must have been the year Dawson became Area Supervisor for Seacouver. Methos hadn't really paid much attention at the time, though he had considered the honour well-deserved. In the long run, however, this little fact had turned out to be a master stroke of luck.  
  
Fifteen - was it really just 15 years ago that he had last joined the Watchers? The years seemed to pass more slowly when one worked as a historian.  
  
Twenty - Joe had recently announced it was now twenty years since he'd been assigned to Duncan. They had even brought out a quiet toast... It was sad how MacLeod's sudden absence took its toll on Joe.  
  
Thirty - even this tree had lived longer than Alexa.  
  
Thirty-one - she had been born the same year that Joe had joined the Watchers. Methos had spent much of it as a roadie for rock bands. 1968 had been a strange year, full of promise, and full of shit.  
  
Fourty-six - not a very old tree. Just a few years. But they had had to fell it - Methos could see the damage in the bark, in the wood. The tree had been dying. He'd have done the same. Like the forester, he'd have decided it was better to cut clean.  
  
Uncomfortable thoughts on his mind, he rose and set out to walk all the way back to Seacouver, to Joe's cozy jazz bar. He hoped it would be around a few years longer than the felled tree he was leaving behind.


End file.
